Pablo tapped away at his laptop, writing his latest fanfiction. It was a serious story about hard drugs, drama, sadness, and cute pink ponies. There was no way he was the only person who had thought of this idea, but that's not what mattered to him. He needed to get this idea out of his head. it had been stuck there for four weeks before he had fleshed it out enough to get it planned out on a document.

As he typed, a small creak came from behind him. He turned around and three men in suits stood before him.

The man in front smiled at Pablo, possibly trying to calm him.

"Pablo Arthu..."

"Get the fuck out of my fucking house!" Pablo interrupted.

"Pablo, I am One..."

"Get out of my house, you cunt!"

"Just listen to me for a second," The man sighed, pinching the brige of his nose in annoyance, "We're from the Fanfiction University of Assorted Media."

Pablo's eyes widened, "Oh, I've heard of you. My friend was sent to the YouTube one. Just one question, though. Why the fuck are you in my fucking house?"

The man sighed again, "We're dropping off your enrolment forms. You made too many bad fanfics."

Pablo looked towards his laptop, and back to the man. "You now they're intentionally bad, right?"

"Do you have any idea how many people say that? Look, here are your forms, fill them in, you can talk to the headmaster when you get there."

Pablo took the folder from the man's hands. "Can you help me fill them in, just in case I need some clarification?"

"Fine... It's not like I have a life or anything." He turned to the other two, "You guys can leave, I'm sure I can handle this."

Ten minutes later, after arguing over the exact differences between the definitions of the terms "Race", "Ethnicity" and "Nationality", and whether the correct term is "white" "white British" or "Caucasian", the man just left and told Pablo not to worry about the forms.


Pablo awoke in a London Underground platform. There were hundreds of other people sitting around. They all looked very attractive, all with odd hair colours and clothes of the latest fashion. Pablo wore a shabby pair of slacks, a poorly fitting short-sleeved shirt, and a black tie. His shoes were barely held together by loose stitches and duct tape. The man who had been helping Pablo had probably chosen these clothes as a joke, not realising that this was his daily attire.

A train arrived after five minutes of waiting, Everyone else rushed towards the nearest door they could find, Pablo decided to wait. If there wasn't enough room, he'd catch the next one. After a few mimutes, the conductor walked to him and told him that there would be at least one free seat in the carrage opposite him. Pablo entered the carriage and the doors closed behind him. He walked through the aisle looking for a free seat and found that there was only one. It was a window seat, next to a seemingly thirteen year old boy with black hair, a trench-coat and pointed ears. Pablo squeezed past him and sat down in the free seat.

"Hi, I'm Daigon, who are you?" The emo vampire said.

"Pablo."

"Hey, what's your backstory? I'm a vampire that was thrown out his pack for refusing to drink blood. I look really young because we age really slowly."

"I'm a guy who lives in South London and writes for fun." Pablo said, closing his eyes and resting his head on the window.

"No, I mean your character."

"Oh, in that case, I'm a guy on his way to a university to tell them that, unlike every other fucker on this train, I know how to write competently."

"What?"

"Look, shut up. I want to preserve my intelligence for conversing with whatever idiot is in charge the uni we're going to."

Daigon stayed quiet for the duration of the trip.


When they arrived, They were escorted by a twenty-something Californian guy to the entrance of the university. Pablo had no clue who this guy was, but all of the teenage girls, 80% of the group, we're drooling over him. They walked through a few corridors and reached a set of double doors. As they opened, everyone walked in and took a seat near the back or middle of the room. As Pablo entered, he saw it was a large assembly hall. He walked to the third row from the front and sat near the middle. Pablo used this tactic to avert attention from himself, as most people look at the front, back and middle rows. Everyone else had elected to fill in from the back, meaning that there was an empty row of chairs between himself and the nearest occupied seat.

The head walked onto the stage. He was a twenty-something year old awkward mess, known colloquially as Dan Howell. His speech was stuttered and full of pauses. Pablo didn't pay any attention what he was saying as he was not planning on staying. He would get an appointment with the head and explain that his bad fanfictions were jokes, and that he was planning on releasing a well written fanfiction soon.

After twenty minutes, everyone had started to file towards a lion that Pablo guessed, and hoped, was Aslan. The large cat was handing out papers. Pablo followed the group as bitterly as possible. The papers he received were a timetable, a map and a room assignment.

Pablo walked to the student office to talk to the receptionist. As he got there, he noticed that the receptionist was, in fact, Bella Swan. Or rather, Kristen Stewart's version of Bella Swan.

"Hey," Pablo said "I need to talk to the head about my enrolment. Is there any chance of getting an appointment today?"

Bella bit her lip. "There isn't a free appointment until the end of next Friday."

"You mean to tell me," Pablo scowled, "That I have to go through fresher week, and then a week of classes, before I can talk to the head to discuss my enrolment?"

Bella continued to bite her lip. "Yes."

"Ugh, fine! I guess this isn't your fault. Just book me in at the first availability"


Pablo lay down in his bed. There was a knock at the door, which then opened. This must be Pablo's roommate.

Daigon walked in

"Oh, hey Pablo, how are you?"

"I was just thinking about how peaceful this room is. And now you're here." Pablo got up and walked to the only desk in the room.

"Hey, why didn't you go to the meet-up?"

"What?" Pablo said, pulling a book out of the draw under the desk.

"Yeah, we all had tea and talked to each other about our characters and stuff. It was really fun."

Pablo looked at the cover of the book in his hand, It was a compilation of Jane Austin novels. "How fascinating. I would say that sound like hell, but I'm sure I'll go through worse here."

Daigon looked at the book Pablo was holding. "Did you choose that book? I just let the guy in the suit choose for me, so I don't know what I've got."

"This is the only book in the draw." Pablo looked around the room for another draw. "Maybe you have to open the draw yourself to get yours."

Daigon opened the draw. He took out a copy of a manga version of Dracula.

"Aw, cool, I've wanted to read this. You can borrow it when I'm finished, if you want."

"I've read it."

"You read manga too?"

"I read classic novels."


After a few days of sitting around reading Jane Austin, and a few more with nothing to do but drink alone in the university pub, "Orc's bar", Pablo finally had his first class. Monday, at 10:00 AM, he had 'Basic punctuation and grammar'.

Pablo walked into the lecture hall and sat near the middle. He got ready to be underwhelmed. He took out a pen and a piece of paper. and waited for the lecturer to begin.

Miss Hoolie from Balamory walked to the podium in front of them.

"Hello everyone, today I'll be going over the curriculum for this year. If you have any questions, please wait until the end, and I'll..." she trailed off, as Pablo's arm shot into the air. "Okay, I can tell this is important, so I'll make one exception. What do you want to know?"

"Well, I don't need to be here. How can I pass this course in this one lesson?" Pablo asked.

Miss hoolie looked irritated, "You'd need to write a paragraph including correct grammar, as well as correct use of parenthesis, commas and at least one semicolon."

"Will do!" Pablo said and got to thinking of what he should write instantly. After two minutes, his hand shot back up, interrupting Miss Hoolies' speech on proper etiquette when using a laptop in a lecture.

"Please wait until the end." she said, clearly irritated at Pablo's interruptions and cocky personality.

"I've finished the paragraph, do want it now, or at the end?"

Miss hoolie motioned for Pablo to bring it to the front. He walked to her and handed her the piece of lined paper.

"Please read it out, with the punctuation." She said, staring at his outstretched hand.

"Diagon (my roommate) masturbates to the thought of several old men entering his body; he is not quiet at night. I wish to obtain earplugs, as I find it hard to sleep with an edgy thirteen year old's screams in the same room. Also, he talks about a fictional drug which he calls "wood". I am convinced that he is simply a closeted homosexual, however, I may be mistaken."

Diagon, sitting in the first row, started blushing. "I'm eighteen, not thirteen..." he mumbled under his breath.

Miss Hoolie scowled. "Get out of here and don't come back!"

"Did I pass?"

"Yeah, sure, whatever. just get out!"

Pablo's next lesson was at 2:00, so he went to the Orc's bar and had a couple of glasses of Jack Daniels and Cherry Pepsi.


As he sauntered into the next lesson, "Use of references", Pablo wondered how these classes last more than a few hours. He realised that the teaching probably wasn't very good, as the lecturers weren't trained, they were simply well-known characters. This would mean that the whole year could be highly condensed into around two hours with a competent teacher. His pondering of the logistics of the university's recruitment process was disturbed by the lecturer beginning the lesson.

"Hello everyone, I'm Mr Claypole, please call me Tim. So, we'll start with..." He stopped, noticing that a hand was already up. "What?"

"How do I finish this class in this lesson. I don't need to be here and I just want to go." Pablo said, emboldened by his earlier success and the two ounces of Jack Daniels slowly working their way through his system.

"I guess I'll quiz you. Everyone else read through the lesson plans on your desks." Mr claypole seemed to be having fun, probably anticipating a cocky student who thought he was really smart, but actually knew nothing. "You, come down here."

Pablo got up, took all his things and walked down the few steps.

"Right," Mr Claypole started, "First question, what are the three types of references in a fanfiction?"

"The most well known is the obvious references to the media which everyone knows, usually memes or dumb quotes, like 'allons y'," Pablo started, "Then there are the more hidden references to the media, such as briefly mentioned dates and bits of dialogue, then you have the really obscure ones, like using elements from really old TV shows that the reader's parents may know."

Mr Claypole was stunned, but recovered almost instantly, a smirk appearing on his face. "What's the perfect ratio of the three kinds?"

Pablo kept a blank look on his face, "It really comes down to personal preference, but I think that one or two of the more obvious ones can help get people in the mind frame of the media, while too many can seem like either pandering, or a writer who knows the show from hearing snippets on the internet. You can have more "genius bonus" references, as long as they are well hidden and fit in better with the writing, only being obvious enough for a super geek to pick up on. The really unknown references should only be used sparingl, as they can take a reader out of the story and cause them to open a new tab and search for thing like 'Rent-a-ghost'."

"Look," Mr claypole said, "You can leave, but first there's some news I have to tell you all," He turned to the rest of the class, "I was going to tell you this at the end, but I guess now's as good a time as ever. There's going to be a masquerade ball this evening. You all have formal clothes in your rooms chosen to suit you perfectly, as well as a mask to show your personality. Music will be provided by some of the most well known literary musicians. I hear the phantom of the opera sings a haunting melody." He turned back to Pablo, "You pass, just go."

Pablo entered the student reception. Bella looked up and bit her lip, "Oh, hi. How can I help?"

"Yeah, the books we all got. Can I get another one? You can take the first one back if you want."

"Oh, you're Pablo right?" She asked, not waiting for the answer, " I heard you pissed One off then let him choose everything for you. I'm sory, but you only get the one book."

"But I'm already done, is there any way I could get another? Maybe you could organise a swap with another student."

"Wait," She furrowed her brow, "You finished it?"

"Yeah, I was bored during freshers week. Was I not supposed to read it?"

"You finished Jane Austin's completed works in a week?"

"Half."

She shook her head, "I'll ask One what to do, but I can't promise anything. Come back tomorrow."

Pablo left and decided that now seemed like a good time to go to Orc's and have a couple of pints.

Pablo woke up in his bed, with no memory of anything past his fourth pint of cheap American lager. His head was in a small amount of pain, making Pablo thank his stars that, even when drunk, he knew to drink a pint of water in between every two pints of beer.


"Hey, are you okay?"

"Yes Daigon, my alcohol induced amnesia is a symptom of being just perfect."

"First lesson is in half an hour."

"Cool, I'll get ready now, then wait for fifteen minutes." Pablo said sarcastically. He waited for a few seconds and decided to do exactly what he'd said he would.

As he entered the lecture hall, Pablo thought to find out what class he was walking into. He took out his timetable. "Four act structure". Pablo walked in and saw a man in exquisite Elizabethan garb.

"Right all of you, why don't you sit down? I'm Edmund Blackadder, The Lord Blackadder. Heir to the Duchy of Edinburgh. This lesson will be a brief overview of the four act structure. First, I've heard that one of you thinks he's a little genius. Pablo Fawkes? Stand up." Blackadder looked down his nose at Pablo as he rose from is seat. "So, you're the little worm who thinks he knows how to write eh? Why don't you give the rest of the class a brief rundown on what the four act structure is"

Pablo looked around and gave the shortest explanation he could, "First act: set up to event. Second act: event and rise tension. Third act: build to climax. Fourth act: resolve."

Blackadder looked at Pablo blankly, then looked up to the biggest cluster of students sitting together, "Everyone else read the sheets of paper on your desks," He said, then turned back to stare straight at Pablo, "You, come down here right now!"

Pablo walked down the steps and came to the lecturer, "What's up?"

"What do you think you are doing?"

"Look, I don't need to be here. There's been some mistake in the system or something. If you just pass me, I'll go and you can get on with actually teaching."

Blackadder pondered this, "Well, it is not my fault, and you seem to know what you're talking about. I guess I could. As long as you talk to the head about this."

"I have an appointment in a few days."

"Right, tell him I put up a fuss about you leaving early."

"Will do, Your Lordship."

Pablo walked to Orc's for a little hair of the dog.


Soon, Pablo was due to go to his next class, Shipping, With a Mr Richards. Pablo wondered if he was going to have a competent teacher in the form of Reed Richards, Mr Fantastic. Pablo then realised that he had just jinxed it and, if fanfiction universities lived up to their name, he would now definitely have the worst teacher yet.

He walked into a small room. At the front, he saw a man with a white shirt, blue jeans pulled up to his belly-button and oily hair. The man, Mr Richards, turned around and saw Pablo.

"Ooh, wearing a shirt and tie? I bet you're a little teacher's pet. I bet all the teachers just looove you!"

Pablo sighed, "Actually, the general reaction seems to be the opposite."

"What, did you kiss their arse too much?" Mr Richards laughed and snorted.

"No, I showed them that I am at least a half-way decent writer."

Mr Richards screwed up his face. "Right, prove it. Tell the class when it is acceptable to ship two characters!"

Pablo looked bored. "If two characters are really close," He said, in a dull monotone, "you could add a dimension to their interactons with a romance. Alternatively, the same can be said of enemies. Really, fanfiction is creative writing, and any strict rules that restrict your writing can stifle the creative spark that resides in all of our brains."

Mr Richards sneered at Pablo, "Get out of my class right now."

"Did I pass?"

"No," Mr Richards began screeching at Pablo, "You did not pass! Get out of my classroom right now! I'm reporting this to the head right now you little shit!"

Pablo walked out and strolled to the reception.

Pablo walked into the reception and saw Bella looking vaguely flustered. Or hungry, Bella wasn't good at conveying emotion.

"Hey, did you manage to get me a new book?"

"Oh, Pablo! No. I haven't been able to. But, the Head asked to see you. I'll take you to his office."

Pablo followed her through the intricate corridors. After a short walk, they reached two big mahogany doors. Bella knocked. When the reply of "Come in" came, she gestured to Pablo to enter, and briskly walked back to her work area.

Pablo walked into the room. In front of him, a meter away, was a large wooden desk. Dan Howell was sitting behind it.

"Hey, Pablo! Please, sit down," he motioned to the chair opposite him.

Pablo walked to the chair and sat down.

"Pablo," Dan sighed, "Why are you here?"

"The office or the university?"

"Let's start with the office."

"My lecturers thought I was unable to write and disliked me proving them wrong."

Dan opened a drawer beind the desk. He pulled out a stack of papers. He looked down at the drawer indecisively, looked at the three inch stack of papers, and pulled out a bottle of Jameson whiskey.

"So, Pablo, Why are you at the university?"

Pablo looked Dan in the eyes, "I challenge myself to write the worst stories I can, while also using creative ideas. It seems I'm a little too convincing."

Dan wiped his face with his hand, "How many people do you think say that?"

"Dan, ask my lecturers, I passed all of the classes in less than a single lesson. Except for Shipping, altough I'd hazard a guess that that's why I'm here right now. Which Reminds me, Lord Blackadder told me that he put up quite a fuss when he let me pass."

Dan took a glass and poured himself a double-shot of whiskey. "Pablo, this chunk of paper is all of the mistakes in your stories. Are you genuinely trying to tell me that all of these are intentional?"

"No, just most of them. Read one of the stories and tell me that the mistakes don't add humour. Dan, I'm working on a serious, actually good fanfiction now. I've just started, but I'm pretty sure it'll be good. If that one is shit, just bring me back for the mistakes in that one."

Dan sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose, then downed his whiskey. "Sure, go"


Pablo woke up. It was early morning. He got up and walked to his laptop. it was still on. He saved the draft of his next fanfiction and opened a new document.

He wrote a title.

"The Official Fanfiction University of Assorted Media."

He walked to the kitchen to get a bowl of cereal. As he walked he noticed that suddenly he was moving in a downwards trajectory, passing by a pinkish light. At his confusion, he was then falling through an exceptionally blue sky.